EARLY  DAYS 

on  the 
WESTERN  RANGE 

A  PASTORAL  NARRATIVE 


BY 
C.  C.  WALSH 


BOSTON 

SHERMAN,  FRENCH  &  COMPANY 
1917 


COPYRIGHT,  1917 
SHEHMAN,  FRENCH  &>  COMPANY 


INTRODUCTION 

As  the  East  comes  to  appreciate  more  sym- 
pathetically the  West  and  its  place  in  the 
nation,  and  as  the  West  becomes  more  con- 
scious of  itself,  the  distinctive  contributions  of 
the  West  to  the  country's  development  grow  in 
interest  to  the  average  man.  More  than 
any  other  influence  in  recent  years,  the  World's 
Fair  at  San  Francisco  turned  the  eyes  of 
the  people  of  the  Atlantic  Coast  to  the 
Rocky  Mountains  and  valleys  of  California. 
No  longer  can  a  New  Englander  say  he 
has  been  "out  West"  when  his  journey 
takes  him  no  further  than  across  the  Hudson 
River. 

He  has  discovered  that  there  is  something 
worth  seeing  and  knowing  about  the  "  big 
spaces  "  beyond  the  Mississippi  River  as  well 
as  in  the  countries  of  Europe.  And  from  this 
time  on,  especially  after  travel  through  the 
Panama  Canal  is  no  longer  interrupted  by  dis- 
astrous slides,  the  big  West  will  witness  tour- 
ists in  ever  increasing  numbers. 

The  cattleman  has  been  an  important  figure 


INTRODUCTION 

in  making  the  West  habitable.  He  and  his 
sons  followed  close  on  the  heels  of  the  American 
explorer  and  the  American  soldier.  In  fact, 
the  courageous  cowboy  was  always  found  rid- 
ing shoulder  to  shoulder  with  Uncle  Sam's  cav- 
alry in  ridding  the  frontier  of  marauding  In- 
dians, white  desperadoes,  or  other  enemies  of 
civilization. 

About  the  life  of  the  cowboy,  removed  as  he 
was  from  the  restraining  conventions  of  so- 
ciety —  a  life  that  required  daring  and  phys- 
ical skill  of  a  high  order  —  has  centered  much 
romantic  interest.  Chivalric,  adventurous, 
fearless,  he  has  been  fitly  compared  in  resource- 
fulness and  courage  to  the  Vikings  of  the 
northern  seas.  From  his  life  of  group  isolation 
has  evolved  something  of  the  clan  spirit  of 
Scotland.  He  has  created  a  robust  vernacu- 
lar; he  has  developed  a  body  of  unique  and 
delightful  songs,  commemorating  his  own  heroic 
deeds ;  he  has  created  verse  devoted  to  the  same 
theme. 

In  Mr.  Walsh's  little  volume,  many  of  the 
outstanding  characteristics  have  been  faith- 
fully portrayed.  Here  we  catch  some  glimpses 
of  the  conditions  and  privations  which  the  cow- 
boy had  to  face;  we  see  him  at  work  and  at 
play ;  we  learn  something  of  his  wholesome 
philosophy ;  we  catch  glimpses  of  his  social  out- 


INTRODUCTION 

look.  In  this  book,  written  in  simple  verse,  in 
a  style  which  will  appeal  to  the  youngest  as 
well  as  the  most  mature  minds,  we  may  read 
the  annals  of  the  West  wherein  the  cowboy 
played  his  part.  To  those  readers  who  are  at 
all  familiar  with  the  western  range  life  as  lived 
by  the  cowboy  and  ranchman,  even  the  swing 
of  the  lines  as  the  story  unfolds  has  a  tendency 
to  suggest  the  quiet  monotony  and  oppressive 
stillness  of  the  unchanging  plains,  and  the  com- 
monplaceness  of  the  dead  flat  of  the  boundless 
prairies. 

Owen  Wister  has  told  the  best  of  all  cowboy 
romances.  Poetry,  story,  and  song  are  yet  to 
be  written  that  will  adequately  commemorate 
the  work  of  this  most  virile  of  all  the  pioneers* 
—  the  American  cowboy. 

JOHN  A.  LOMAX. 

The  University  of  Texas, 
May  25,  1917. 


PREFACE 

"  Simply  told,  and  every  word  true,"  as  om 
old  time  "  cowpuncher  "  has  expressed  it,  is  the 
only  virtue  claimed  for  the  pastoral  narrative, 
"  Early  Days  on  the  Western  Range." 

Nearly  a  century  ago,  there  lay  south  and 
west  of  the  Mississippi  River  a  vast  stretch  of 
country  now  included  in  Oklahoma,  Texas, 
Arizona,  and  New  Mexico,  known  as  "  No  Man's 
Land,"  where  immense  and  far  reaching  plains 
lay  in  open  ranges,  with  countless  thousands  of 
wild  buffalo,  wild  cattle,  deer,  and  antelope,  and 
still  wilder  men  roaming  with  the  changing 
seasons  from  valley  to  valley,  mesa  to  mesa,  and 
divide  to  divide.  The  luxuriant  grasses;  the 
mild  and  temperate  climate ;  the  pure  and  brac- 
ing atmosphere,  as  clear  as  water,  as  strong 
as  wine;  the  boundless  prairies  carpeted  with 
a  startling  profusion  of  beautiful  wild  flowers ; 
the  green  and  purple  mountains  in  the  distance ; 
the  soft  and  fleecy  clouds  floating  in  the  azure 
sky  overhead;  the  verdure-lined  pasture  lands 
through  which  the  crystal  streams  of  purest 
water  wound  their  way  to  the  sea,  golden 


PREFACE 

threads  in  the  sunlight,  ribbons  of  shining  sil- 
ver in  the  moonlight ;  the  bubbling  springs  in 
the  sylvan  dells,  fed  by  the  winter  snows  from 
the  lofty  mountain  gorges  —  all  these  extended 
an  invitation  to  those  romantic  spirits  of  our 
young  American  manhood  which  were  irresisti- 
ble and  could  not  be  declined. 

And  hence  gradually  grew  up  that  great 
ranching  industry  of  the  great  Southwest 
which  has  so  signally  flourished  since  long  be- 
fore railroads  offered  adequate  means  of  trans- 
portation. So,  also,  with  this  romantic  ranch- 
life  came  the  "  cowpuncher,"  or  "  cowboy," 
with  his  "lariat,"  "lasso,"  "  riata,"  or 
"  rope  "  as  it  is  variously  designated ;  came  the 
"  round-up,"  "  the  branding  time,"  "  the  re- 
muda,"  "  the  cowpuncher's  outfit,"  "  the  death 
dealing  mill,"  "  the  wild  stampede,"  "  the  drive 
up  the  trail,"  "the  buffalo  hunters,"  "the 
chuck  wagon,"  "  the  horse  wrangler,"  "  the 
squatter,"  "  the  nester,"  "  the  drifter,"  "  the 
cowboy  songs,"  and  the  "  vernacular  of  the 
range."  With  all  these  came  also  that  wild, 
bold,  semi-nomadic,  semi-chivalrous  life  of  the 
cattleman  co-incident  with  the  settling  up  of 
the  millions  and  millions  of  acres  of  land,  ad- 
mittedly the  most  productive  and  fertile  in  the 
known  world.  For  in  addition  to  the  great 
ranges  and  numberless  farms,  the  very  heart 


PREFACE 

of  this  territory  is  now  yielding  such  commer- 
cial commodities  as  coal,  oil,  gas,  sulphur,  salt, 
quick-silver,  iron,  copper,  and  mica,  with  a  host 
of  other  products,  the  valuation  of  which 
would  be  fabulous,  and  to  an  unskilled  account- 
ant, unbelievable. 

In  this  simple  story  many  of  the  outstanding 
characteristics  of  the  old  time  cowpuncher  or 
cowboy  have  been  faithfully  portrayed.  "  Old 
Uncle  Reuben  Brown "  is  mythical  in  name 
only,  for  his  counterpart  can  be  seen  all  over 
the  Western  Range.  All  of  the  "  old-timers  " 
among  that  rapidly  disappearing  class  of 
American  manhood  known  as  "  cowboys  "  are 
most  lovable  and  delightful  characters,  simple 
in  their  manners,  quaint  in  their  speech,  hon- 
orable in  their  dealings,  and  firm  and  steadfast 
in  their  friendships. 

They  speak  in  the  vernacular  or  dialect  of 
the  range,  which  is  not  only  pleasing,  but  in 
many  cases  very  forceful  and  to  the  point. 
Their  philosophy  of  life  is  very  sweet  and 
wholesome.  Their  humor  is  most  delightful, 
and  their  pathos  very  touching.  The  cowboy 
was  here  yesterday;  he  is  gone  today.  He 
rides  in  the  dim  shadows  of  the  historic  past  — 
and  will  never  come  again.  The  eloquent  story 
of  Uncle  Reuben  Brown  is  told  in  perpetuation 
of  this  most  virile  and  interesting  life,  which 


PREFACE 

lives  only  in  the  "  yesterdays  "  of  the  cowboy, 
mounted  upon  the  "  hurricane  deck  of  a 
cayuse,"  as  he  grandly  disappears  from  our 
civilization. 

C.  C.  WALSH. 
San  Angelo,  Texas, 
August  1,  1917. 


TABLE  OF  ILLUSTRATIONS 


"  An'  thus  we'd  drive  tin'  herd  along 
Frum  daylight  until  dark."   .      .      Frontispiece 


FACING 
PAGE 


"  When  I  fust  cum  out  West  — 
A   ridin'  on  a  ole  gray  hoss."   ....        2 

"  Yast  thar  wuz  lots  of  buffalo 
A    browsin'  on  th'  range."    .....        8 

"  An'  brand  th'  Mav'ricks  as  tha  cum  — 
This  made  our  losses  less."  .....      10 

"  But  mostly  tha  slept  on  th'  ground 
In  saddle  blankets  roll'd."   .....      12 

"  You  talk  about  Delmonico's 
Er  Rector's  swell  caff  ay!  "  .....      14 


"  Th'  cowboys  comin'  frum  th'  hills 
To   have   a  jamboree."    ......      16 

"  We'd  kill  a  beef  'most  ev'ry  night  — 
The  other  feller's  brand."   .      .      .      .      :      20 

"  But  every  man  wuz  measured  by  .  .  . 
.  .  .  How  he'd  throw  his  lariat."   ...      24 

"  Now  Durhams  an'  th'  Herefords  take 
Th'   place   of   mangy    steers."    ....      26 

"  Then  thar's  a  change  in  trav-el-un 
Frum  what  it  ust  t'be."  ......      30 

"  Thar  wuzn't  any  steam-cars  then 
To  ship  our  stock  by  rail."  .....      31 

"  We  traveled  on  from  day  to  day  — 
A  goin'  up  th'  Trail."   ......      36 


PACING 
PAGE 

<f  Sumtimes  we'd  ketch  a  man,  you  know. 

While   changin'  up   a   brand."    .      .      .      .      38 

"  We'd  try  his  case  before  Judge  Lynch; 

Then  hang  him  on  a  tree." 42 

"  A  teachin'  him  to  ride  th'  bronchs  — 
He   needed   lots   o'   salve" 44 

et  An*  so  at  night  when  we'd  cum  in, 
We  wuz  a  jolly  crew." 48 

"  Th'  boys  all  squatted  'round  th'  fire, 
A  settin'  on  thair  heel." 52 

"An'  make  our  way  across  th'  plains 
Along  th'  backward  trail." 54 

"  He  liv'd  upon  th'  open  range, 
An'  lov'd  th'  great  outdoors"   ....      62 

"  Thair  palus  wuz  a  blam'd  ole  shack 
To  shelter  frum  th'  cold." 66 

"  Jist  let  'em  have  thair  head, 
An'  tha  wud  sure  bring  out  that  steer."    .      70 

<f  We  never  wuz  ashamed  of  'em 
In    town,    er   city    school." 74 

"  Th'  rattlesnake  an'  cotton  tail 
Now   occupy   thair   holes." 80 


CONTENTS 

OLD  UNCLE  REUBEN  BROWN          PAGE 

OLD  UNCLE  REUBEN  BROWN 1 

UNCLE  REUBEN  BECOMES  REMINISCENT 

THE  BUFFALO 7 

LIFE  ON  THE  OPEN  RANGE 12 

How  A  MAN  WAS  JUDGED 16 

DOGIES,  CULLS  AND  CUTBACKS 19 

THE  PASSING  OF  THE  LONG  HORN  ....  24 

THE  COMING  OF  THE  AUTOMOBILE  ....  29 

GOING  UP  THE  TRAIL 35 

LAW  AND  ORDER  ON  THE  TRAIL     ....  42 

FUN  ON  THE  TRAIL 44 

THE  BADGER  FIGHT 45 

THE  SNIPE  HUNT 48 

THE  OLD-TIME  Cow  BOY 52 

WOMEN  OF  THE  WESTERN  RANGE 

MOTHERS  AND  WIVES 61 

DAUGHTERS  AND  SWEETHEARTS       ....  68 

THE  END  OF  THE  TRAIL 

THE  END  OF  THE  TRAIL       ....  79 


OLD  UNCLE  REUBEN  BROWN 


OLD  UNCLE  REUBEN  BROWN 

WHILE  sitting  at  my  desk  today, 

With  nothing  much  to  do, 
I  heard  a  knock  upon  my  door, 

And  thinking  it  was  YOU, 
I  said,  "  Come  in !     We're  all  at  home !  " 

But  what  was  my  surprise 
To  see  Old  Uncle  Reuben  Brown 

Step  in,  with  laughing  eyes. 

Old  Reuben  Brown,  whom  I  have  known 

For  lo !  these  many  years  — 
As  good  a  man  as  ever  lived  — 

Who  dries  the  orphans'  tears ; 
Who  has  a  smile  for  old  and  young ; 

Who  lives  from  day  to  day 
In  such  a  way  that  all  he  meets 

Have  nothing  aught  to  say 

But  good  of  him,  this  noble  man, 

Whom  I  was  glad  to  see; 
For  when  he  comes,  he  always  brings 

A  song  of  cheer  for  me. 
There's  sunshine  in  his  smiling  face  — 

There's  music  in  his  voice; 
And  when  he  takes  you  by  the  hand, 

He  makes  your  soul  rejoice. 


He's  not  an  educated  man, 

As  education  goes. 
He's  not  a  social  lion  bold, 

With  latest  "  tailored  clothes." 
He'd  not  impress  the  proud  elite 

With  intellectual  poise ; 
And  then  he  does  his  charities 

Without  the  slightest  noise. 

But  when  you  look  into  his  face, 

You'll  read  in  every  line 
That  truth  and  honor  dwell  therein  — 

This  noble  friend  of  mine ! 
There's  trusting  friendship  in  his  glance; 

There's  kindness  in  his  eye. 
Abiding  faith  dwells  in  his  breast, 

With  hopes  —  that  never  die. 

He  emigrated  to  the  West 

Some  time  in  Sixty-nine ; 
He  opened  up  a  little  ranch 

Out  on  the  frontier  line ; 
Pre-empted  all  the  land  he  could, 

According  to  the  law ; 
Recorded  here  his  marks  and  brands, 

And  lived  without  eclat. 

From  year  to  year,  as  time  went  on, 

He  saw  his  land  increase. 
Sometimes  he'd  buy  a  "  nester  "  out, 

And  thus  insure  his  peace. 
[2] 


"When  I  fust  cum  out   West — 
A  ridin     on  a  ole  gray  koss." — Page  7 


Sometimes  a  "  squatter  "  he'd  induce 

To  leave  a  "  water  hole." 
Sometimes  a  "  drifter  "  would  sell  out, 

And  further  westward  stroll. 

Until  at  last,  by  honest  toil, 

His  acres  now  expand 
Across  a  rich  and  fertile  plain 

Of  finest  grazing  land. 
His  cattle  by  the  thousands  roam 

Across  this  good  man's  range. 
And  yet  he  leads  the  "  simple  life  " 

And  doesn't  think  it  strange. 

And  so,  when  he  comes  into  town, 

He  always  "  happens  in," 
To  chat  a  little  while  with  me. 

Amid  the  busy  din 
Of  city  life  and  business  cares, 

It's  like  the  breath  of  spring, 
To  hear  the  music  of  his  voice  — 

His  j  oily  bantering. 

"  Wall,  howdy,  John!     I  jist  drapped  in, 

As  I  was  passin'  through, 
To  see  how  you're  a  gittin'  on ; 

An'  how  life's  usin'  you. 
O'  course  I  knowed  your  maw  an'  paw, 

Way  back  in  Sixty-nine  — 
An'  so  I  jist  drapped  in  a  spell, 

Why,  John,  you're  lookin'  fine !  " 
[3] 


"  Glad  to  see  you,  Uncle  Reuben ! 

Glad  you  came  in  today. 
Here,  have  a  match,  and  light  your  pipe 

I  know  it's  made  of  clay  — 
But  somehow,  when  you  come  around, 

And  start  to  tell  a  joke, 
It  never  seems  you're  talking  right 

Until  you  '  start  a  smoke.'  " 

Old  Uncle  Reuben  lit  his  pipe, 

And  sat  back  in  his  chair  — 
Then  for  a  while  he  gazed  at  me, 

While  blowing  rings  in  air. 
Contentment  shown  upon  his  face, 

A  smile  played  round  his  mouth. 
He  was  an  old  time  pioneer 

Who  loved  the  Sunny  South. 


[4] 


UNCLE  REUBEN  BECOMES 
REMINISCENT 

HE  TELLS  OF  EARLY  DAYS  ON  THE  WESTERN 
RANGE 


THE  BUFFALO 

"  WALL,  John,  I  swan,  it  beat's  th'  deuce 

To  see  how  things  do  change ; 
An'  when  I  stop  an'  gaze  aroun', 

I  most  fergit  th'  range. 
Th'  barbed  wire  fence  has  blocked  th'  trail ; 

We  drive  no  longer  through 
To  Kansas  like  we  use  to  cud  — 

It  seems  rite  funny  too. 

"  An'  when  I  think  about  th'  time 

When  I  fust  cum  out  West  — 
A  ridin'  on  a  ole  gray  boss 

That  allus  stood  th'  test  — 
It  makes  th'  tears  cum  to  my  eyes 

When  I  recall  that  ride. 
So  many  of  th'  boys  hav'  rid 

Acrost  the  Great  Dee-vide. 

"  Thar  wa'n't  no  peepul  livin'  here 

Whar  this  ole  town  now  stan's ; 
But  only  cattul  roamin'  wild, 

An'  thievin'  Injun  bands. 
Out  in  this  wild  an'  wooly  West 

White  folks  lived  fur  apart  — 
An'  thar  war  sights  which  I  have  seen, 

That  almost  broke  my  heart. 


[7] 


"  Yas,  thar  wuz  lots  of  buffalo 

A  browsin'  on  th'  range. 
You  never  see  one  of  them  now, 

But  THEN  it  wasn't  strange 
To  see  a  awful  cloud  o'  dust 

A  risin'  in  the  sky, 
An'  in  a  little  while  you'd  see 

Th'  buff'lo  goin'  by. 

"  An'  since  you  spoke  of  buffalo  — 

Remember  onct,  I  jing! 
When  we  wuz  ridin'  'long  th'  trail 

We  saw  a  funny  thing. 
Wall!  'twa'n't  so  VERY  funny  though, 

For  we  war  skeert  to  death. 
We  saw  a  millyun  buffalo  ! 

That  made  us  hole  our  breath. 

"  Wall !  p'raps  there  wa'n't  a  millyun,  quite ! 

But  't  look't  like  tha  was  MORE; 
A  hundred  thousan',  anyway. 

You'd  orter  heerd  'em  roar ! 
Th'  pesky  things  cum  o'er  the  hills, 

Acrost  th'  ole  deevide  — 
A  show  that  wuzn't  on  th'  bills  — 

Declar,  I  lik't  t'  died. 

"  We  didn't  know  which  way  to  turn ; 

*  Buck  Agar  '  held  us  fast. 
We  huddled  up  thar  in  a  bunch, 

While  tha  went  sailin'  past, 

[8] 


lr 


- 


Oo 


With  dust  a  flyin'  through  th'  sky 

Long  after  tha  wuz  gone. 
It  made  my  har  stan'  up  on  end, 

An'  I  jist  said:  'Doggone.' 

"  When  I  cum  here  in  Sixty-nine, 

This  land  wuz  open  range. 
An'  you  cud  find  the  buffalo 

From  Toyah  to  La  Grange. 
Why,  I  have  stood  upon  th'  hills 

Surroundin'  Lipan  Flats, 
An'  seen  th'  herds  of  buffalo 

As  thick  as  flyin'  gnats. 

"  I've  seen  'em  cum  acrost  th'  plains 

In  sich  treemen j  us  herds ; 
So  clos't  together  an'  as  thick, 

I  hain't  got  any  words 
With  which  I  kin  discribe  th'  same ; 

But  I'll  declare  to  you 
That  tha  wuz  wedged  too  awful  tite 

To  let  a  coyote  through. 

"  O*  course  their  meat  wuz  good  to  eat ; 

In  fact,  it  wuz  first  rate. 
But  when  we  tried  to  ship  it  out, 

It  wudn't  pay  th'  freight. 
We  killed  'em  mostly  fur  their  hides, 

But  I  hav  seen  th'  time 
When  hides  wuz  corded  up  like  wood, 

An'  wuzn't  wuth  a  dime. 
[9] 


"  O'  course  the  cow  boys  hunted  them 

O'er  mountain,  hill  an'  plain, 
An'  then  at  night  th'  lies  tha'd  tell 

About  th'  number  slain. 
An',  John,  I  tell  it  fur  th'  truth, 

Though  you  may  think  it  strange, 
I  killed  one  day  jist  eighty-six 

Ole  buff'lo  on  th'  range. 

"  An'  thar  were  fellers  that  I  know'd 

Cud  beat  that  all  to  smash, 
Who  made  thair  livin'  frum  th'  hides 

Which  tha  wud  sell  fur  cash. 
These  hides  were  brought  to  Angelo, 

An'  piled  up  in  th'  street 
Jist  like  a  lot  o'  corded  wood  — 

I  never  saw  th'  beat. 

"  An'  thar  tha  staid  till  tha  were  sold 

To  leather  men  up  East  — 
Thar  must  have  bin  ten  thousan'  hides, 

Not  less  than  that  at  least. 
But  times  have  chang'd,  as  all  things  chang', 

An'  whar  you  used  to  meet 
Th'  bufflo  hunter  an'  his  hides 

You'll  find  a  nice  paved  street. 

"  Fur  on  one  Febrooary  day 

'Long  back  in  Eighty-three, 
One  of  them  cold  blue  Northers  cum  — - 

A  drizzlin',  sleetin'  sea 
[10] 


Of  ice  wuz  form'd  upon  th'  plains, 
Which  kiver'd  all  th'  ground, 

An'  not  a  single  bite  o'  grass 
Cud  anywhar  be  found. 

"  Then  on  that  day  tha  disappear'd, 

All  of  a  suddint,  like. 
I  guess  th'  time  had  cum  fur  them 

To  take  thair  last  long  hike. 
'Twuz  anyway  th'  last  of  'em 

Out  here  in  Concho-land; 
Jist  as  th'  time  will  cum  fur  us 

To  seek  that  Better  Land. 

"  An',  John,  sumtimes  when  I  reflect 

Upon  them  passin'  herds, 
Which  staid  here  fur  a  little  while, 

Ef  I  jist  had  th'  words 
To  say  th'  things  I'd  like  t'  say 

While  time  is  clockin'  on, 
Tha'd  teach  a  less'n  fur  us  all 

To  learn  before  we're  gone." 


LIFE  ON  THE  OPEN  RANGE 

"  OUR  cattul  roam'd  upon  th'  plains, 

We  had  no  fences  then  — 
We  only  went  by  marks  an'  brands  — 

We'd  lose  a  few,  but  when 
Th'  yearly  round-ups  druv  'em  in, 

We'd  kinda  sorta  guess, 
An'  brand  th'  Mav'ricks  as  tha  cum  — 

This  made  our  losses  less. 

"  We  didn't  wear  no  '  broad  cloth  suits  ' 

Out  on  this  Western  range. 
We  didn't  live  in  paluses, 

An'  didn't  think  it  strange. 
Our  millyun-airs  liv'd  like  us  all, 

An'  didn't  have  th'  gout 
Frum  sich  rich  grub  we  now  hear'n  of 

To  burn  th'  stummicks  out. 

"  Thair  palus  wuz  a  blam'd  ole  shack 

To  shelter  frum  th'  cold. 
But  mostly  tha  slept  on  th'  ground 

In  saddle  blankets  roll'd. 
Blue  sky  was  all  th'  coverin' 

Tha  got  most  of  th'  year. 
Thair  saddle  fur  a  piller  serv'd, 

With  cow  hoss  hobbl'd  near. 


[12] 


s 


*•§• 


"  Of  '  mainyoo  cards,'  tha  never  herd ; 

Thair  '  Bill  O'  Fare '  wuz  thin  — 
A  little  bacon  in  a  pan, 

Sum  coffee  in  a  tin, 
Sum  '  dog  bread  '  bak'd  upon  th'  coals, 

Sumtimes  a  little  '  Rye  ' — 
Jist  tak'n  fur  th'  stummick's  sake  — 

Wuz  all  we'd  ever  buy. 

"  Yas,  John,  an'  thar  were  lots  o'  times, 

'Long  in  th'  airly  day, 
We  didn't  have  a  bakin'  pan. 

Now  liss'n  what  I  say ! 
We'd  mix  our  dough  out  o'  th'  sack, 

With  taller  from  a  steer, 
Then  work  it  up  in  our  ole  han's  — 

You  needn't  look  so  queer ! 

"  When  it  got  <  stiff,'  we  roll'd  it  out, 

An'  wropp'd  it  round  a  stick ; 
Then  hilt  it  o'er  th'  coals  to  bake, 

An'  cook  it  dun  rite  quick. 
An'  while  sum  one  'uz  bakin'  bread, 

Sum  other'd  brile  th'  meat, 
While  sum  biled  coffy  in  a  can ; 

Then  we'd  set  down  to  eat. 

"  You  talk  about  Delmonico's, 

Er  Rector's  swell  caffay ! 
Tha  cudn't  tech  th'  feast  we  had 

'Long  in  that  airly  day. 
[13] 


When  we  wuz  campin'  on  th'  range 

'Twuz  hunger  made  th'  sauce; 
An'  things  we  had  to  eat,  you  bet, 

Look'd  good  without  th'  gloss. 

"  We'd  kill  a  beef  'most  ev'ry  night  — 

The  other  feller's  brand. 
We'd  cook  it  to  th'  heart's  delight  — 

I  tell  you  it  wuz  grand ! 
An'  then,  when  we  laid  down  t'  sleep 

Beneath  th'  deep  blue  sky, 
Our  conscience  didn't  worry  us, 

Ner  coyotes  howlin'  nigh. 

"  But  when  th'  time  fur  brandin'  cum 

Around  each  year,  you'd  see 
Th'  cowboys  comin'  frum  th'  hills 

To  have  a  jamboree. 
Th'  eatin'  then  could  not  be  beat, 

No  whar  in  Boston  town ; 
When  all  th'  boys  wuz  feelin'  good, 

An'  no  one  das't  to  frown. 

"  Them  '  Mountain  Oysters  '  which  wuz  served 

Up  in  th'  grandest  style  — 
Bril'd  on  th'  coals,  jist  steamin'  hot  — 

Wud  make  a  lobster  smile. 
An'  then,  that  other  dish,  by  gosh, 

Thair's  nothin'  like  it,  quite; 
I'll  bet  I've  eat  ten  gallons  of 

That  stew  — '  heifer's  delight.' 
[14] 


i 

"0 

• 


"  We  didn't  take  no  pepsin  then 

To  make  our  food  digest. 
Our  stummicks  were  like  ostriches' 

An'  we  did  not  invest 
In  any  patent  medicines. 

Th'  doctors  all  'ud  starve 
Ef  tha  depended  upon  us 

To  git  a  chanc't  t'  carve." 


[15] 


HOW  A  MAN  WAS  JUDGED 

"  OUT  here  we  didn't  judge  a  man 

By  dollars  in  th'  bank. 
We  had  no  time  fur  '  social  stan',' 

Ner  what  sum  called  *  high  rank.' 
But  every  man  wuz  measured  by 

His  honor,  grit  an'  nerve; 
An'  how  he'd  throw  his  lariat 

Out  in  a  triple  curve. 

"  An'  when  we  fust  cum  to  th'  West, 

We  never  did  inquire 
Too  clos't  about  a  feller's  name 

He  wore  back  in  Ohier. 
That  other  name  belong'd  to  him  — 

Why  need^it  worry  us? 
An'  ef  he  wished  to  change  his  brand, 

We  didn't  give  a  cuss. 

"  Now  let  me  say  a  word  rite  here  — 

An'  mind  you  what  I  say  — 
Jist  lots  o'  men  that  chang'd  their  names 

Had  seen  a  better  day. 
An'  when  tha  got  an  equal  chanc't, 

Out  whar  th'  range  wuz  free, 
Tha  settled  down  upon  a  claim 

An'  prov'd  thair  peddygree. 


[16] 


"  I  long  ago  concluded,  John, 

An'  hit  upon  a  plan ; 
That  when  a  man  will  try  to  do 

Th'  very  best  he  can, 
An'  thus  wipe  out  th'  past  o'  his'n 

'Long  with  his  tother  name, 
We'd  best  let  well  enuf  alone, 

An'  help  him  boost  th'  game. 

"  But  when  a  *  cut  back '  cum  in  camp, 

We'd  soon  discover  him ; 
An'  ef  he  didn't  soon  '  fill  up,' 

Th'  boys  'ud  *  douse  his  glim.' 
We  allus  tried  to  keep  th'  herd 

Free  from  *  off  color '  stuff; 
An'  all  the  '  sweaters  '  had  to  git, 

Er  we  'ud  '  call '  thair  bluff. 

"  Remember  onct  some  '  'tailins  '  cum 

Into  the  camp  one  night, 
All  full  o'  '  rot  gut '  whiskey,  an' 

Tried  to  pull  off  a  fight. 
Th'  boys  j  ist  let  'em  have  thair  way  — 

Until  tha  pull'd  a  gun  — 
An'  then  tha  waded  into  'em, 

An'  put  'em  on  th'  run. 

"  Tha  didn't  have  th'  sand  an'  grit 

To  stand  an'  fight  like  men. 
But  soon  tha  show'd  th'  *  yaller  streak  '- 

An'  John,  you'd  orter  ben 
[17] 


A  layin'  thar  whar  I  was  bunk'd, 
An'  heard  them  '  cut  backs  '  yell ; 

Our  boys  clean'd  out  th'  whole  shebang, 
An'  give  them  '  sweaters  ' —  well ! 

"  I  won't  say  what  I's  goin'  to  say  — 

Because  sich  words  don't  sound 
Jist  like  tha  did  upon  th'  Range, 

Without  no  wimmern  'round. 
But  somehow  we  jist  had  to  speak 

In  that  emphatik  way  — 
An'  when  we  did,  tha  understood, 

Jist  how  th'  ground  'ud  lay." 


BOGIES,  CULLS  AND  CUTBACKS 

"  Now,  John,  you  spoke  'bout  '  dogie  stuff ! ' 

Wall,  that  brings  back  t'  me 
A  little  reminiscence  of 

Th'  life  —  that  used  t'  be. 
A  '  dogie  calf  '  is  like  sum  folks 

That  we  so  often  know, 
Who  wander  from  th'  narrer  path 
An'  don't  know  whar  to  go. 

"  Remember  onc't  I  own'd  a  ca'f 

Who's  mother  wasn't  near, 
When  it  cum  from  th'  beddin'  ground 

An'  follered  off  a  steer. 
I  tried  to  stop  th'  little  fool, 

An'  started  in  a  lope 
To  head  it  off  an'  turn  it  back, 

But  hed  fergot  my  rope. 

"  Th'  steer  run  out  acrost  th'  range, 

That  fool  ca'f  run  behind, 
Until  I  got  plum  out  o'  breath 

An'  said  sum  things  unkind. 
It  hadn't  sense  enuf  to  see 

That  steer  was  not  its  maw, 
An'  I  jist  laid  rite  down  an'  laff'd 

A  hearty  loud  ha  !  haw ! ! 


[19] 


"  '  Go  it !  you  little  fool,'  I  cried, 

A  rollin'  of  my  thumbs  — 
'  He  ain't  your  maw ;  you'll  find  it 

Out  when  suckin'  time  cums.' 
It  never  saw  its  maw  agin', 

An'  so  fur  want  o'  milk 
That  ca'f  becum  a  '  dogie  runt,' 

An'  tail'd  off  with  its  ilk. 

"  An'  I  know  lots  o'  folks  today 

A  trailin'  off  strange  gods. 
A  thinkin'  tha  air  somethin'  grate, 

A  judgin'  by  thair  nods. 
Who,  when  it  gits  too  late  to  turn 

Back  frum  th'  life  tha'v  led, 
Will  wish  that  tha  wuz  back  at  home, 

A  eatin'  mother's  bread. 

"  An'  thar  air  certain  gells  today 

Jist  like  that  dogie  ca'f, 
Who  hav'n't  got  a  bit  more  sense 

Than  stan'  aroun'  an'  laff 
At  th'  cute  things  sum  '  gilded  f ule  ' 

Will  say  to  lead  'em  on  — 
Until  too  late  tha'll  wake  an'  find 

Thair  pride  an'  honor  gone. 

"  Yas,  thar's  th'  <  cutbacks  »  an'  th'  <  culls 

You'll  find  in  every  herd  — 
No  matter  how  you  grade  'em  up  — 

I  swan  —  I  pon  my  word ! 
[20] 


Ss  a 


1  § 


Tha  will  creep  in  despite  of  all 

Th'  care  an'  pains  we  take ; 
Don't  make  no  diff 'rence  how  we  feed  — 

On  choicest  hay  er  cake. 

"  I've  owned  some  herds  as  fine  as  silk, 

An'  tended  'em  with  care ; 
Until  I  thought  I'd  never  find 

A  '  cull '  er  *  cutback '  there. 
But  when  I'd  make  a  sale  o'  'em, 

An'  cum  to  cut  'em  out, 
We'd  find  sum  of  that '  tailin '  stuff, 

Without  a  shadder's  doubt. 

"  But  we  have  larn't  as  time  goes  on 

About  th'  peddygree  — 
That,  *  blood  will  tell '  in  cattul  herds, 

As  well  as  fam-bi-lee, 
That  we  can  raise  a  thoroughbred 

As  cheap  as  '  brindle  '  stuff  — 
An'  ef  a  few  *  cut  backs  *  creep  in, 

We'll  sell  'em  quick  enuf. 

"  I've  also  noticed,  John,  by  gosh, 

An'  larn't  sum  less'ns,  too, 
By  watchin'  of  my  growin'  herds, 

Which  may  sumtimes  help  you; 
An'  that  is  this  —  er  this  is  that  — 

Which  ever  way  you  please  — 
That  thair  are  sumtimes  '  cutbacks  '  in 

Th'  finest  peddygrees. 
[21] 


"  It's  not  confin'd  to  stock  alone, 

Not  by  a  jugful,  no! 
But  tha  air  «  folks  '  that  I've  heerd  of 

Who  must  put  on  a  show, 
When  all  at  onc't  while  sailin'  high, 

A  thinkin'  tha  was  IT, 
Sum  '  cut  back  '  in  thair  herd  'ud  clip 

Thair  soarin'  wings  a  bit. 

"  But  since  th'  rule  of  Nature's  law 

Is  fix't  —  im-pla-ca-ble  — 
Jist  like  th'  Medes  an'  Persians  wuz  — 

Ir-rec-on-cil-a-ble  — 
I've  got  an  idee  of  my  own  — 

I  think's  a  first  rate  plan  — 
Jist  do  th'  best  we  can  fur  'em, 

An'  help  'em  '  be  a  man.' 

"  Then,  ef  tha  don't  fill  up,  an'  grow, 

An'  shed  thair  mangy  hair, 
An'  look  like  decent  folks  shud  look, 

We  hadn't  orter  care. 
An'  I'll  take  chances  when  the  Boss 

'11  tally  out  His  herd, 
An'  prove  the  marks  an'  bran's  we've  made, 

He  won't  dispute  our  word. 

"  I  don't  keer  what  the  Scientists  say 

About  th'  '  perfect  breed  ' 
Of  animals  er  human  kind ; 

I  don't  believ'  thair  creed; 
[22] 


That  we  can  grow  perfectshun  here, 

An'  imperfectshuns  rid. 
I've  tried  it  nigh  on  sixty  year  — 

It  simply  can't  be  did." 


[23] 


THE  PASSING  OF  THE  LONG  HORN 

"  IN  airly  days  we  us'  t'  see 

The  '  long  horn  '  on  th'  range. 
We  didn't  have  much  '  blooded  '  stock, 

An'  didn't  think  it  strange 
Fur  steers  of  ev'ry  shape  an'  size 

Our  holdin'  bran'  to  wear. 
An'  THEN  we  didn't  try  to  show 

Our  big  stuff  at  th'  Fair. 

"  But  times  have  changed,  since  Sixty-nine, 

An'  we  have  larn't  to  grow 
Th'  baby  beef  that  you  read  of, 

An'  see  down  at  th'  show. 
Now  Durhams  an'  th'  Herefords  take 

Th'  place  of  mangy  steers  — 
Poll'd  Angus  Cattul  drive  away 

Th'  dre'd  o'  hunger's  fears. 

"  Th'  price  o'  cattul  has  improved, 

As  we've  improved  th'  breed, 
Jist  like  th'  cotton,  maize,  er  corn 

Improves  with  better  seed. 
An'  as  we  learn  from  year  t'  year, 

How  to  grade  up  our  herd  — 
By  stickin'  clost  to  Nature's  law  — 

We  git  th'  cream  fur  curd. 


[24] 


* 


"  I  don't  know  whar  it's  goin'  t'  stop, 

But,  John,  I'll  swar  to  you 
I'm  dumb  to  gosh  ef  I  can  see 

Whar  things  is  goin'  to. 
We  ust  t'  think  eight  dollars  high 

Fur  cattul  on  th'  range, 
But  now  a  steer  at  sixty,  nigh, 

Don't  bring  enuf  o'  change. 

"  I've  seen  th'  time  you  cudn't  give 

A  yearlin'  calf  away  — 
But  land  o'  goshint  tha  will  now 

Bring  thirty  any  day. 
An'  then  a  cow  with  suckin'  caf 

Sold  well  to  get  fifteen, 
But  now  —  tha'll  bring  round  seventy, 

Although  tha're  lank  an'  lean. 

"  '  Thar's  quite  a  diff'r'nce,  John,  you  say ; 

Thar  is  that,  I'll  admit  — 
But  thar's  a  reason  fur  this  change, 

You  cum  t'  think  of  it. 
'  High  cost  o'  livin' '  figgers  sum, 

As  cattul  men  all  know, 
An'  ef  th'  price  keeps  goin'  up, 

Poor  folks  won't  have  a  show. 

"  Oh,  yes,  economists  will  say  — 

Tha  allus  talk  by  rule  — 
That  money's  cheaper  than  it  wuz 

When  we  wuz  kids  at  school ; 
[25] 


That  cows  ain't  wuth  no  more  today 
Than  back  in  Sixty-nine  — 

But  we  know  better,  don't  we,  John? 
Don't  eight  and  one  make  nine? 

"  A  pound  o'  beef's  a  pound  o'  beef 

Out  here  in  this  man's  town. 
An'  when  it  sells  at  thirty  cents, 

We  know  'tain't  comin'  down. 
Thar  was  a  time  when  you  cud  buy 

Sir-loin  fur  seven  cents; 
Now  when  it  sells  fur  twenty-five, 

It's  needin'  no  comments. 

"  An'  then  look  at  th'  price  o'  shoes ! 

Tha're  goin'  out  o'  sight. 
I  bought  my  gell  a  pare  today  — 

I  didn't  think  it  rite, 
But  do  you  know  th'  price  I  paid 

Fur  that  small  pare  o'  shoes? 
'Twas  fifteen  dollars  as  I  live! 

I  almost  got  th'  blues. 

"  And  when  I  priced  sum  fur  myself, 

I  went  up  in  the  air; 
Tha  wanted  seven  ninety-five 

Fur  that  ole  brogan  pair. 
I  bought  th'  shoes,  an'  put  'em  on, 

An'  walked  off  down  th'  street 
A  feelin'  like  a  bloomin'  fule 

At  every  friend  I'd  meet. 
[26] 


"  But  then  when  I  got  back  t'  hum 

I  tried  t'  think  it  out  — 
Wall,  after  all  'twas  not  so  bad 

Fur  me,  a  clumsy  lout, 
Fur  when  I  figger'd  out  th'  price 

I'd  jist  got  fur  a  steer, 
Th'  price  o'  shoes  was  'bout  th'  same, 

Er  it  cum  mighty  near. 

"  An'  then  th'  price  o'  saddles,  too, 

Down  at  Joe  Miller's  shop's 
A  heap  sight  more'n  tha  ust  t'  be. 

An'  even  razor  strops 
We  ust  t'  buy  fer  eighty  cents 

Will  cost  you  two  whole  bucks. 
That's  goin'  sum  I'd  have  you  know, 

But  what's  th'  differ'nc'  ?     Shucks ! 

"  We're  livin'  better  far  today 

Than  back  in  Sixty-nine, 
With  schools  an'  churches  ever'whar 

A  sowin'  seed  dee-vine. 
With  men  a  mendin'  of  thair  ways, 

Frum  what  tha  ust  t'  be; 
An  talkin'  'bout  that  Better  Range 

That  after  while  tha'll  see. 

"  I  cum  t'  think  of  it,  by  gosh, 

I'm  glad  I'm  livin'  still, 
To  see  th'  time  when  flowers  bloom 

In  every  dale  an'  hill ; 

[27] 


To  see  our  land  so  prosperous 
In  these  last  days  o'  mine's 

Enuf  t'  make  me  glad  an'  gay  — 
These  grander,  better  times." 


[88] 


THE  COMING  OF  THE  AUTOMOBILE 

"  THEN  thar's  a  change  in  trav-el-un 

Frum  what  it  ust  t'  be. 
I  wonder  what  th'  boys  'lid  think 

If  tha'd  come  back  an'  see 
Th'  way  we're  gittin'  over  ground, 

Out  here  upon  th'  plains? 
We  don't  ride  like  we  ust  t'  did 

Before  we  built  our  lanes. 

"  We  tuk  sich  pride  in  bronchos  then, 

An'  rode  to  beat  th'  band. 
But  that's  all  changed  since  airly  days, 

Out  here  in  Concho  Land. 
Instead  o'  drivin'  bronchos  now, 

Hitched  to  a  fambly  hack, 
An'  goin'  fifty  mild  a  day, 

With  jist  a  little  snack 

"  To  eat,  as  we  went  up  th'  trail, 

We  go  a  swifter  gait, 
An'  make  two  hundred  mild  with  ease  — 

Besides,  we  ride  in  state! 
Th'  auto-mo-beel's  cum  to  stay 

I  guess,  I  must  admit. 
But  when  th'  blam'd  thing  fust  show'd  up, 

I  lik't  to  had  a  fit. 


"  What  good  cud  that  con-trap-shun  be  ? 

That's  what  I'd  like  t'  know ! 
To  any  ranchman  on  th'  range? 

An'  how'd  he  make  'er  go? 
An'  how'd  he  keep  th'  cattul  frum 

Stamp-pee-din'  to  th'  hills? 
An'  how  on  airth'd  he  ever  pay 

Th'  blasted  feedin' bills? 

"  I  look'd  th'  creetur  over  good, 

An'  tried  to  learn  th'  way 
That  it  cud  feed  on  gas-o-leen 

Instead  o'  grain  an'  hay. 
An'  when  th'  feller  at  th'  wheel 

Indooc'd  me  to  git  in, 
An'  take  a  ride  acrost  th'  plains, 

I  smil'd  a  silly  grin. 

"  He  pull'd  a  little  lever  out; 

He  push'd  another  in; 
An'  then  th'  smoke  begin  to  spout, 

Amid  a  awful  din 
Of  noise,  like  startin'  of  a  train, 

Th'  wheels  begin  to  turn  — 
An'  then,  you  orter  seen  'er  go, 

An'  I,  sez  I,— «  Gol  dura!' 

"  I  didn't  think  it  cud  be  dun, 
But  that  macheen  made  tracks 

Way  out  acrost  th'  old  deevide, 
Like  roarin'  cat-a-racks, 
[30] 


H 

« 


An'  in  less  time  than  you'd  be-leve 

We'd  gone  a  hundr'd  mild, 
While  I  jist  set  an'  look'd  aroun', 

An'  sumtimes,  laff'd  an'  smil'd. 

"  Well !  by  th'  time  that  we  got  home 

That  slick  tongued  motor  man 
Had  talk'd  me  into  buyin'  it. 

I'd  seen  how  smooth  she  ran. 
Oh!  yes,  he'd  made  it  clear  to  me, 

That  I  must  have  th'  thing. 
I'd  save  a  thousan'  ever  year 

An'  much  enjoyment  bring. 

"  It  was  a  Hudson  Super-Six, 

Er  sum  sich  name,  he  said ; 
An'  did  th'  work  of  eighty  hoss, 

A  standin'  in  th'  shed. 
Yes,  we  cud  round  up  cattul,  too  — 

He  said  that's  whut  he'd  dun  — 
An'  we  cud  go  a  huntin'  with 

A  rapid  fier  gun. 

"  Besides  that,  when  our  work  was  dun, 

The  pleasure  we  cud  see, 
A  drivin'  through  th'  naborhood, 

Er  to  a  <  Spellin'  bee.' 
We'd  see  th'  folks  fur  miles  aroun' — 

At  least  that's  whut  he  said  — 
An'  we  cud  always  git  back  home 

In  time  t'  go  to  bed. 

[31] 


"  He  tole  me  it  was  cheeper  far 

To  drive  than  drive  a  hoss. 
That '  without  hitchin' '  it  wood  stan', 

An'  I  cud  be  th'  boss, 
An'  drive  whurever  I  durn  please, 

An'  stop  her  '  quick  as  wink.' 
An'  so  I  ups  an'  bought  th'  thing  — 

Before  I  stopt  t'  think. 

"  I  tuk  sum  lessons  f rum  th'  guy 

On  how  to  run  my  car. 
An'  then,  I  wrote  him  out  a  check 

Which  he  cud  cash  at  par. 
He  hung  about  a  leetle  while, 

An'  then  lit  out  fur  town ; 
While  I  lookt  like  a  bloomin'  fule, 

Whose  name  was  Reuben  Brown. 

"  Wall,  after  I  had  bought  th'  car, 

I  sez  to  me,  sez  I, 
*  Now,  Rube,  you'd  better  hitch  'er  up, 

An'  try  'er  out  a  try.' 
'  I  guess  I  will,  by  gosh,'  sez  I ; 

Then  tightn'd  up  th'  reins, 
And  fork'd  into  th'  saddle  square, 

A  smoothin'  down  her  manes. 

"  I  call'd  Jerushy  Ann  t'  cum ; 

To  never  mind  th'  stew, 
An'  git  in  our  new  drivin'  hack  — 

We'd  go  a  mild  er  two. 

[32] 


So  after  we  had  all  got  in, 

I  let  'er  have  her  head ; 
An'  then  my  wife  commenc't  t'  yell, 

'  Stop,  Rube,  you'll  kill  us  dead! ' 

"  But  I  rar'd  back  in  that  front  seat, 

With  both  han's  on  th'  wheel ; 
I  druv  th'  spurs  into  'er  sides 

Until  I  made  'er  reel. 
We  headed  fur  th  'open  road, 

I  kept  a  feedin'  juice 
Until  you'd  thought  ole  Satan  an' 

His  imps  had  brok'n  loos. 

"  My  wife  wuz  skeert  purt  nigh  t'  death ; 

The  children  thought  it  fun, 
But  every  time  she  holler'd,  '  Stop,' 

Th'  kids  yell'd,  <  Let  'er  run!  > 
Wall,  when  we  got  back  home  at  last 

We  sure  had  frighten'd  her, 
Fur  we  had  gone  a  hundred  miles 

By  that  spee-dom-e-ter. 

"  When  wife  an'  I  go  ridin'  out  — 

Fur  to  put  on  a  show 
In  that  new  car  we  bought  last  June  — 

I  wish  that  you  cud  go 
Along  with  us,  an'  see  th'  fun. 

You'd  split  your  sides  t'  see 
Th'  way  I  holler  at  th'  brute, 

An'  say,  *  Haw  there!—     Now  Gee! ' 
[33] 


"  I've  owned  that  car  about  three  months. 

I've  larn't  to  drive  'er  too ! 
An'  so  Jerushy  Ann  an'  me 

Driv  in  here  to  see  you. 
An'  John,  I'm  tellin'  you  th'  truth, 

I  like  that  car  jist  fine, 
An'  wouldn't  swap  it  fur  th'  bronchs 

I  druv  in  Sixty-nine." 


[34] 


GOING  UP  THE  TRAIL 

"  You  want  to  know  about  «  Th'  Trail'? 

Wall,  when  I  cum  to  think 
About  them  days  now  past  an'  gone, 

I  kinda'  have  to  blink 
To  keep  th'  dew  out  o'  my  eyes ; 

Fur  them  'uz  times  you  know 
Which  tried  men's  souls  as  well  as  nerve, 

When  up  '  Th'  Trail '  we'd  go. 

"  I've  seen  a  lot  o'  hardships,  John, 

In  this  long  life  o'  mine. 
I've  faced  a  lot  o'  dangers,  too, 

Along  th'  frontier  line.  . 
I've  been  a  saddle-warmer  now 

Fur  nigh  on  sixty  year; 
An'  I  know  sumthin'  of  th'  life 

Th'  trail  men  liv'd  out  here. 

"  Thar  wuzn't  any  steam-cars  then 

To  ship  our  stock  by  rail; 
We  cudn't  take  th'  water  route, 

So  we  went  up  th'  Trail. 
Th'  market  wuz  a  long  way  off, 

An'  many  nights  we'd  lodge 
Whar  dangers  lurk'd  on  every  hand, 

Frum  Beeville  to  Fort  Dodge. 


[35] 


"  Mid  cattul  thieves  an'  Injun  bands, 

Mid  storms  o'  sleet  an'  cold  — 
Fur  many  weeks,  an'  sumtimes  months 

In  our  ole  slickers  roll'd  — 
We'd  camp  out  on  th'  open  range, 

An'  guard  our  cattul  train, 
No  matter  what  th'  weather  wuz, 

In  blindin'  snow,  er  rain. 

"  At  night  we'd  bed  th'  cattul  down, 

Beleevin'  all  wuz  well  — 
Sum  little  thing  'ud  frighten  'em, 

Jist  what,  we  cudn't  tell  — 
You'd  hear  a  beller,  then  a  roar, 

No  one  cud  intercede; 
Th'  whole  blam'd  herd  was  on  th'  run, 

In  one  great,  wild  .stampede. 

"  Th'  boys  struck  spurs  into  their  bronchs, 

Not  waitin'  fur  th'  word, 
An'  flank'd  th'  frenzied  leaders  in 

Upon  th'  flyin'  herd. 
Then  more  an'  more  tha  press'd  'em  back 

Into  a  circle  bent, 
Until  tha  got  to  millin'  round, 

Whar  all  thair  force  wuz  spent. 

"  Th'  herd  kept  circlin'  round  and  round, 

With  beds  up  in  th'  air ; 
While  clashin'  horns  and  snortin'  steers, 

Sure  rais'd  a  bedlam  there. 

[36] 


1-2 


' 


U 
^ 


Jist  like  a  rope  winds  round  a  reel, 

Amid  a  awful  din 
Of  noise  you'll  wanta  hear  but  onct, 

Tha  kep  a  drawin'  in. 

"  Until,  at  last,  th'  <  mill  '  was  form'd. 

Th'  dangers  of  stampede 
Wuz  thus  brought  to  a  sudd'n  end. 

Thar  wuz  no  longer  need 
To  keep  th'  bunch  in  that  close  herd, 

An'  many  cattul  kill, 
So  we  commenct  to  lay  our  plans 

Fur  to  unwound  th'  '  mill.' 

"  Cowpunchers  rode  up  on  th'  flank, 

Then  form'd  into  a  wedge. 
Tha  slowly  work'd  thair  way  into 

Th'  cattul  on  th'  edge. 
Then  gently  turn'd  'em  '  tail  about ' ; 

Th'  '  mill '  was  thus  unwound, 
An'  in  a  little  while  tha's  back 

Upon  thair  beddin'  ground. 

"  You  can't  describe  th'  dangers  of 

A  gin-u-wine  stampede 
Of  f righten'd  cattul  on  th*  Trail ; 

An'  sum  hav  never  seed 
Th'  way  tha  act  when  millin'  round. 

But  I'm  right  here  to  say 
That  men  have  tri'd  to  break  th'  *  mill ' 

Who  had  thair  lives  to  pay. 
[37] 


"  Ef  tha  got  caught  within  th'  <  mill ' 

'Twas  '  good-bye,  Lizy  Jane  ' ; 
Fur  tha'd  be  ground  into  a  pulp  — 

Both  boss  an'  rider  slain. 
No  man  caught  in  that  whirlin'  mass 

Cud  hope  fur  to  be  saved; 
An'  I've  seen  horse  an'  rider  crush't, 

While  all  th'  cowboys  rav'd. 

"  An'  then,  again,  we'd  go  fur  days 

Without  a  single  sign 
Of  comin'  trouble  anywhars ; 

An'  then,  we'd  all  resign 
Ourselves  to  fate  an'  trust  to  luck, 

But  woe  be  unto  us  I 
Fur  quiet  comes  before  th'  storm, 

An'  then  we'd  swear  an'  cuss. 

"  Fur  it  sumtimes  has  seem'd  t'  me, 

Without  the  slightest  cause 
That  any  one  of  us  cud  find, 

An'  then  without  a  pause, 
Th'  herd  commenct  to  millin'  round  — 

I  never  seed  th'  beat  — 
While  poundin'  huffs  an'  clattr'n  horns 

Wud  scare  us  up  complete. 

"  Remember  onct,  upon  th'  Trail, 

When  we  'uz  short  o'  men ; 
A  howlin'  storm  cum  up  at  night  — 

Thar  wuz  no  holdin'  pen. 
[38] 


Th'  lightnin*  flash'd,  th'  thunder  roared; 

Th'  beddin'  ground  wuz  soakt; 
Th'  wind  blow'd  like  a  hur-ay-cane  — 

Declar',  I  likt  t'  croak'd. 

"  Our  cattul  got  to  millin'  then ; 

Jist  goin'  round  an'  round. 
The  lightnin'  play'd  upon  thair  horns 

All  o'er  th'  beddin'  ground. 
It  wuz  a  fearful  sight  to  see, 

An'  we  all  helt  our  breath 
Until  th'  -storm  pass'd  over  us  — 

We  wuz  most  skeert  to  death. 

"  An'  then  th'  moon  broke  through  th'  clouds, 

It  wuz  a  splendid  sight, 
As  ever  I  laid  eyes  upon  — 

That  awful  stormy  night. 
Th'  boys  rode  round  th'  frighten'd  herd, 

A  singin'  soft  an'  low, 
Until  tha  got  'em  turn'd  around ; 

Then,  got  'em  goin'  slow. 

"  Thar's  sumthin'  in  the  cowboy's  song, 

Long  in  th'  dead  o'  night 
When  tha  ride  singin'  round  th'  herd, 

That  makes  'em  quit  th'  fight. 
Thar's  music  in  thair  crooning  notes 

That  quiets  them  o'  fear  — 
Thair  long,  low  whissel  makes  'em  feel 

Thay've  got  a  friend  that's  near. 
[39] 


"  We  didn't  lose  a  single  hoof ; 

But  you  can  bet  your  life, 
Next  mornin'  when  tha  got  strung  out 

Thar  wuzn't  any  strife 
Among  our  herd  th'  whole  day  long. 

Tha'd  had  thair  little  spree, 
So  tha  wuz  glad  enuf  to  rest 

Beneath  sum  shady  tree. 

"  An'  thus  we'd  drive  th'  herd  along 

Frum  daylight  until  dark 
Across  th'  open  mesa  land  — 

It  wuzn't  any  lark ! 
An'  then  at  night  we'd  strike  our  camp, 

An'  place  our  guards  about 
To  keep  th'  herd  from  roamin'  off  — 

An'  ef  tha  did  —  to  shout. 

"  Our  '  Trail  Boss  '  wuz  a  man  o'  brains ; 

A  gin'ral,  tried  an'  true, 
Who  never  shirk'd  frum  anything 

Th'  whole  long  journey  through. 
He'd  place  a  man  '  point  on  th'  left,' 

A  man  6  point  on  th'  right.' 
Another  man  plac'd  '  in  the  swing,' 

To  keep  th'  herd  frum  fright. 

"  And  then,  with  '  flankers  on  th'  right,' 

An'  «  flankers  on  th'  left ' ; 
A  man  to  bring  along  th'  '  drags,' 

So  that  thar'd  be  no  cleft; 
[40] 


We  traveled  on  from  day  to  day  — 

A  goin'  up  th'  TraU. 
An'  ef  great  dangers  we  'ud  meet, 

Our  hearts  'ud  never  quail." 


LAW  AND  ORDER  ON  THE  TRAIL 

"  OLE  trail  men  won't  tell  all  tha  know, 

About  th'  things  tha  dun 
When  tha  'uz  going  up  th'  Trail, 

Along  in  Eighty-one. 
Ner  I  don't  sensure  'em  one  bit  — 

Fur  I  was  thar  myself  — 
An'  I  know  things  I  wudn't  tell 

Fur  all  yer  gold  an'  pelf. 

"  Fur  in  them  days  we  had  no  law 

Except  th'  law  of  might. 
An'  so,  we  met  things  as  tha  cum, 

An'  did  what  we  thought  right. 
O'  course,  th'  circumstances  then 

Wuz  dif-fer-unt  frum  now; 
An'  we  dun  lots  o'  funny  things 

That  you  might  not  allow. 

"  Sumtirnes  we'd  ketch  a  man,  you  know, 

While  changin'  up  a  brand, 
Er  puttin'  marks  upon  a  steer 

He'd  throw'd  down  in  th'  sand 
Which  never  did  belong  to  him. 

An'  when  we  did,  you  see, 
We'd  try  his  case  before  Judge  Lynch; 

Then  hang  him  on  a  tree. 


[42] 


"  This  was  th'  quickest  way  fur  us 

To  break  up  gangs  like  that. 
An'  when  th'  verdict  had  been  read, 

It  ended  all  th'  chat. 
Perhaps,  ef  he'd  been  tried  in  court, 

He  might,  by  chance,  cum  clear. 
But    when    Judge    Lynch    said,    '  You    must 
hang ' — 

'Twas  allus  right  —  purt  near. 

"  Then,  ef  a  sneakin'  hoss-thief  cum 

About  our  camp  at  night, 
An'  tried  to  swipe  our  mounts  frum  us, 

We'd  surely  treat  him  rite. 
Th'  Vig-il-an-tees  —  whar  wuz  tha  ? 

We  didn't  stop  to  learn; 
We'd  throw  a  rope  acrost  a  limb, 

Then  he'd  begin  to  turn. 

"  We'd  leave  him  swingin'  on  th'  tree, 

An'  tell  just  WHY  he  swung. 
Then,  ef  sum  other  hoss-thief  seen, 

He'd  maybe  not  git  hung. 
An',  John,  I  wish  to  say  rite  here  — 

Now  mind  you,  what  I  say  — 
I  don't  be-leev  that  even  NOW 

Thay've  found  a  better  way." 


FUN  ON  THE  TRAIL 

"  You  mustn't  think  f rum  what  I've  said 

We  nevur  had  no  fun 
As  we  wuz  drivin'  up  th'  Trail, 

When  our  day's  work  wuz  done. 
You  couldn't  hold  a  cowboy  down, 

Once  when  his  work  wuz  through; 
An'  so  at  night  when  we'd  cum  in, 

We  wuz  a  jolly  crew. 

"  We  allus  took  a  cook  along 

Who  would  prepare  our  chuck ; 
Then  if  we  chanct  to  miss  our  snack, 

Sum  one  'ud  '  pass  th'  buck.' 
Th'  boys  all  squatted  'round  th'  fire, 

A  settin'  on  thair  heel ; 
An'    then    when    through   tha'd    sumtimes 
dance 

The  Ole  Virginia  Reel. 

"  An'  then  th'  capers  tha'd  cut  up ! 

Jist  like  kids  out  o'  school. 
The  games  tha  play'd,  th'  songs  tha  sung, 

Without  a  tune  'er  rule. 
But  when  a  tenderfoot  blow'd  in, 

Th'  gobs  o'  fun  they'd  have 
A  teachin'  him  to  ride  th'  bronchs  — 

He  needed  lots 

[4*] 


A  teachin'  him  to  ride  th'  bronchs — 
He  needed  lots  o'  salve." — Page  44 


THE  BADGER  FIGHT 

"  ONE  time  when  goin'  up  th'  Trail, 

Sum  greenhorns  jined  our  bunch; 
To  learn  jist  how  th'  thing  wuz  did; 

Tha  didn't  have  a  hunch 
Of  anything  th'  boys  'ud  do  — 

Wall,  take  it  straight  frum  me, 
That  long  before  a  week  wuz  past 

We'd  had  a  jubilee. 

«  We  'lowed  we'd  have  a  «  badger  fight  '— 

We  allus  went  prepar'd. 
A  brindle  bull  dog  with  th'  herd 

Whose  snarlin'  teeth  jist  glared, 
Wuz  kept  chained  to  a  axel  tree 

Furpullin'  off  th'  stunt; 
An'  then  th'  boys  'ud  all  hike  out 

Upon  their  Badger  Hunt. 

"  Tha  allus  found  one  —  certain  thing  — 

An'  brought  him  in  at  night, 
With  two  long  trace  chains  'round  his  neck, 

Fur  *  badgers  '  sure  will  fight ! 
We  made  a  ring  out  on  th'  grass  — 

What  awful  lies  we  told  — 
About  th*  dangers  of  th'  brute  — 

An'  who'd  th'  '  badger  '  hold? 


[45] 


"Th5  boys  wuz  bettin'  fast  an'  loose; 

Then  tha  got  in  a  fight 
About  th'  one  who's  goin'  to  hold 

The  *  badger '  good  an'  tite. 
At  last  when  no  one  cud  agree, 

Tha  settled  it  by  vote. 
A  tenderfoot  frum  Yankeedom 

Wuz  chose  to  be  <  th'  goat.' 

"  O'  course  he  thought  that  he  was  it, 

An'  swelled  up  like  a  toad. 
He  never  dremp't  tha's  stringin'  him, 

True  cowboy,  a  la  mode. 
Th'  '  badger '  plac'd  beneath  a  tub, 

Th'  bull  dog  wuz  brought  out ; 
Then  every  cowboy  rang*d  around 

To  see  th'  bloody  bout. 

"  And  then  *  Old  Bull '  paw'd  up  th'  earth, 

An'  growl'd  like  a  she  bear. 
Th'  man  from  Maine  look'd  up  an'  smil'd, 

As  if  he  didn't  care; 
Then  he  pranc'd  up  and  yank'd  th'  chain  — 

Wuz  that  th'  badger  growl'd? 
Jist  then  th'  word  cum  —  '  LET  'ER  GO  ! ' 

Good  Lordy!  how  tha  howl'd. 

"  Cowpunchers  yell'd  an'  danc'd  aroun' 

Like  tha  wuz  fightin'  Sioux, 
Th'  tenderfoot,  with  chain  in  han', 

Wuz  mad,  plum  through  an'  through. 

[46] 


Th'  fire  flash'd  out  of  his  eyes, 

His  face  got  livid  red. 
But  when  he  saw  th*  '  badger  '  there  - 

4  Oh,  hell!' wuz  all  he  said. 

"  O'  course  it  wuzn't  any  use 

In  him  a  gittin'  mad. 
He  saw  th'  joke  wuz  on  him  good  — 

So  he  cool'd  down,  by  dad. 
Th'  cowboys  told  him  that's  th'  way 

Tha  broke  a  *  greenhorn  '  in. 
Then  after  while  he  saw  thr  pint, 

An*  smiPd  a  silly  grin." 


[47] 


THE  SNIPE  HUNT 

"  'TWAS  not  a  great  while  after  that, 

Th'  boys,  tha  all  allow'd, 
That  maybe  tha'd  a  snip  in'  go. 

So  tha  made  up  a  crowd 
To  hunt  th'  snipes  one  stormy  night 

While  tha  uz  on  th'  ground, 
An'  walk'd  about  six  mild  frum  camp 

Whar  plenty  cud  be  found. 

"  At  last  tha  reach'd  a  dandy  spot, 

Near  a  big  water  hole. 
An'  then  begin  to  argify 

Jist  whar  tha'd  drive  th'  pole 
To  keep  th'  bunch  frum  gittin'  lost  — 

Th'  night  wuz  dark  as  pitch ; 
Fur  that  wuz  'bout  th'  only  time 

Tha'd  cum  out  o'  th'  ditch. 

"  Th'  next  thing  wuz  —  «  who'd  hold  th'  sack 

We'd  brought  to  drive  'em  in? 
An'  that  same  greenhorn  volunteered  — 

Th'  boys  begin  to  grin. 
Tha  show'd  him  HOW  to  hold  th'  bag  — 

Wide  open  at  th'  mouth. 
Then  tha  begun  to  scatter  out  — 

Noth  —  East  —  an'  West  —  an'  South. 


[48] 


l- 


t 


"  Th'  man  we  left  to  «  bag  th'  game ' 

Wuz  cautioned  to  keep  still, 
An'  not  to  move  until  he  heerd 

A  whissel  on  th'  hill. 
Then  we  all  started  back  fur  camp, 

An'  tumbled  into  bed  — 
So  full  of  laff  we  cudn't  sleep, 

But  not  a  word  wuz  said. 

"  Next  mornin'  long  'bout  four  o'clock, 

As  day  begin  to  brake, 
Th'  sky  got  rosy  in  th'  East, 

We  look'd  toward  th'  lake, 
An'  seen  our  '  bag  man  '  cumin'  in  — 

His  empty  sack  in  hand. 
Then  we  jumped  up  and  holler'd  out, 

6  How  many  snipes  d'you  land?  ' 

"  He  didn't  say  a  single  word, 

But  stood  thar  like  a  mule. 
He  saw  that  he'd  been  trick'd  again  — 

That  he  had  play'd  th'  fool 
Th'  second  time  within  three  days ; 

An'  then  he  meller'd  down, 
An'  in  a  little  while  got  up 

An'  lit  out  straight  fur  town. 

"  We  sure  did  hate  to  see  him  go ; 

He  was  a  nice  young  man, 
An'  he'd  been  thar  just  long  enuf 

To  give  his  cheeks  a  *  tan.' 
[49] 


The  boys  all  holler'd  <  Adios ! ' 

As  he  put  on  his  coat ; 
But  he  jist  sulk'd  and  forked  his  hoss  — 

He'd  know'd  he'd  been  <  Th'  Goat.' 

"  Wall,  after  many  days  o'  toil 

An'  hardships  on  th'  Trail, 
We  reach'd  th'  place  whar  we  cud  ship 

Our  tired  herd  by  rail. 
An'  then  th'  boys  wuz  all  paid  off  — 

Lord,  what  a  jamboree 
Tha  all  'ud  have,  you  never  saw, 

When  tha  went  on  a  spree. 

"  Tha'd  been  so  long  upon  th'  road, 

This  s addle-war min'  trip, 
That  when  tha  wuz  paid  off  at  last, 

Tha  acted  like  «  Old  Rip.' 
Thair  bronchs  wuz  worn  and  tired  out, 

When  tied  up  to  th'  racks ; 
An'  so  tha  had  to  rest  an'  cure 

The  '  set-fasts  '  on  thair  backs. 

"  Then  while  thair  mounts  wuz  restin'  up, 

Th'  boys  tuk  in  th'  town. 
An'  thar  war  times  I  didn't  know 

My  name  wuz  Reuben  Brown. 
But  all  sich  things  must  have  an  end, 

An'  we  must  soon  '  turn  tail,' 
An'  make  our  way  across  th'  plains 

Along  th'  backward  trail. 
[50] 


"  John,  sumtimes  when  I  think  about 

Th'  trips  that  I  have  made 
Along  th'  trail  in  airly  days  — 

I  sumtimes  am  afraid 
That  thar  wuz  many  things  we  dun 

We  wudn't  do  today. 
But  times  have  changed  since  Eighty-one 

An'  I  have  larn't  to  pray. 

"  So,  ef  we  didn't  do  th'  things 

We  orter  then  have  dun, 
We'll  have  to  blame  it  on  th'  times 

We  liv'd  in,  when  we  run 
Our  cattul  up  acrost  th'  plains. 

Th'  world  has  chang'd  since  then, 
An'  we  don't  have  to  chase  th'  durn'd 

Ole  cow  thieves  frum  thair  den. 

"  I've  no  apologies  t'  make 

Fur  things  done  in  th'  past ; 
I've  made  my  peace  with  God  an'  man, 

An'  know  it's  goin'  to  last. 
So  I'll  take  chances  when  th'  Boss 

Cums  to  round  up  an'  brand, 
You'll  find  my  name  is  tallied  in 

The  Herd  Book  of  His  Land." 


[51] 


THE  OLD-TIME  COWBOY 

"  EXCUSE  me,  John,  a  little  while, 

Until  I've  had  my  say. 
It  seems  you've  got  me  started  now ; 

I  don't  know  when  I  may 
Cum  in  and  git  another  chanct 

To  finish  up  my  tale, 
An'  so,  I  want  to  tell  about 

The  cowboy  of  th'  trail. 

"  Th'  cowboy  of  th*  present  day, 

Is  dif-fer-unt,  you  know, 
Frum  whut  he  wuz  in  Sixty-nine, 

When  thar  wuz  buffalo. 
It  seems  to  me  tha  disappeared 

'Long  with  th'  passin'  trail. 
An'  most  o'  them  that  we  see  now 

A  steer  cud  never  '  tail.' 

"  His  '  outfit '  not  elab-o-rate, 

But  it  best  suited  him  — 
Ropes  an'  saddle,  boots  an'  chaps, 

A  *  cuttin  '  hoss  that's  trim. 
With  clinkin'  spurs  an'  rawhide  quirt, 

Six-shooter  an'  a  belt, 
An'  then  a  pair  o'  saddle  bags 

His  other  trinkets  helt. 


[52] 


PI 


"  Sombrero  an'  a  woolen  shirt, 

Red  kerchief  'round  his  neck, 
Morale  to  feed  his  ridin'  mount  — 

When  oats  he  had,  a  peck. 
A  slicker,  blanket  wrapped  up  in, 

Tobacker  an'  a  pipe, 
A  pair  o'  breeches  made  o'  jeans, 

On  which  his  knife  he'd  wipe. 

"  He  never  put  on  any  '  dog,' 

Despised  all  kinds  o'  show  — 
He  slept  beneath  th'  clear  blue  sky, 

Mid  cattul's  peaceful  low. 
He  liv'd  upon  th'  open  range, 

An'  lov'd  th'  great  outdoors  — 
He  never  cud  be  satisfied 

When  sleepin'  on  th'  floors. 

"  With  clearest  eye,  an'  nerves  o'  steel, 

He  knew  no  kind  o'  fear  — 
With  friendly  glance,  an'  honest  smile, 

A  welcum  glad  to  hear  — 
With  open  arms  he'd  take  you  in, 

Deevide  with  you  his  chuck ; 
An'  let  you  sleep  in  his  shakedown 

Ef  you  wuz  out  o'  luck. 

"  He  lived  a  kinder  silent  life, 

Alone,  upon  th'  plains. 
He  didn't  know  jist  how  to  shirk, 

Ef  he  had  any  pains. 
[53] 


In  desert  storms  of  alkali, 

In  blindin'  rain  er  sleet, 
Each  day  an'  night  wuz  on  th'  job; 

An'  never  knew  defeat. 

"  He  didn't  know  much  o'  th'  ways 

Tha  did  things  here  in  town. 
Ner  much  about  th'  wimmin  folks  — 

He  hadn't  settled  down. 
But  ef  it  ever  fell  to  him 

To  take  one  o'  thair  parts, 
An'  shield  'em  frum  a  sudden  harm 

His  eyes  uz  flashin'  darts. 

"  He  didn't  care  a  snap  fer  life, 

But  held  it  cheap  as  dirt. 
An'  lots  o'  times  I've  seen  him  laff 

When  with  grim  death  he'd  flirt. 
He,  to  his  Boss,  wuz  true  as  steel, 

Wuz  with  him,  right  er  wrong; 
He'd  lay  his  life  down  at  his  feet, 

An'  do  it  with  a  song. 

"  The  cowboy  in  my  day  liv'd  hard  - 

Shot  quick,  I  will  admit  — 
But  when  he  died,  he'd  face  th'  foe, 

An'  never  slink  a  bit. 
To  serve  his  boss  wuz  his  chief  aim, 

An'  see  that  when  th'  herd 
Wuz  tallied  up  at  brandin'  time, 

It  tallied  with  his  wurd. 
[54] 


. 

Qrq    g 


"^ 


ft 

*o 


"  Yes,  every  cowboy  lov'd  his  mount  — 

He  call'd  'em  each  by  name  — 
An'  never  would  he  part  with  'em 

Fur  gold,  er  pelf,  er  fame. 
He  lived  with  'em,  an'  slept  with  'em  — 

An'  when  he  whisseld,  low, 
Tha'd  leave  th'  grass  upon  th'  range, 

An'  to  his  side  tha'd  go. 

"  You  talk  'bout  hosses  havin'  sense  — 

Tha  have  that,  an'  to  spare ; 
Why,  I've  seen  hosses  that  I've  owned 

No  feller'd  ever  dare 
To  strike  er  kick  when  I  wuz  'round. 

I'd  bust  his  blasted  head  — 
Fur  tha  war  smarter  'n  any  boss 

In  arry  book  I've  read. 

"  Why  I've  owned  *  cuttin' '  hosses,  John, 

No  man  cud  ever  buy. 
In  round-ups  er  in  brandin'  time, 

You'd  orter  seen  'em  try 
An'  show  th'  boys  what  tha  cud  do. 

Jist  let  'em  have  thair  head, 
An'  tha  wud  sure  bring  out  that  steer, 

Er  'else  tha'd  drop  down  dead. 

"  Tha  know'd  th'  game  as  well  as  me  — 
What's  more,  tha  lik'd  it  too  — 

An'  when  th'  boys  forked  on  thair  backs, 
Tha  know'd  ther's  work  to  do. 
[55] 


You  cudn't  work  one  of  'em  down 

Ef  you  wud  ride  all  day, 
An'  't  seem'd  like  when  you'd  speak  to  'em, 

Tha'd  know  jist  what  you'd  say. 

"  An'  so  th'  cowboy  an'  his  hoss 

Together  liv'd  and  died. 
An'  sumtimes  when  we'd  bury  'em, 

We'd  place  'em  side  by  side. 
An'  I've  no  doubt  in  t'other  world, 

When  I  git  on  th'  range, 
I'll  find  th'  hoss  an'  cowboy  there  — 

Ef  not,  I'll  think  it  strange. 

"  Tha  work'd  together,  true  an'  square 

An'  shared  each  other's  lot; 
Tha  liv'd  out  in  th'  wind  an'  rain, 

An'  thought,  as  like  as  not, 
About  how  good  it  wuz  fur  'em 

A  livin'  thar  alone, 
An'  how  tha  wudn't  trade  thair  stand 

Fur  kings  upon  a  throne. 

"  But  now  they've  almost  pass'd  away  — 

Th'  range  is  breakin'  up  — 
An'  as  thar's  no  more  work  to  do, 

Tha  will  no  longer  sup 
Thair  coffee  outen  of  a  tin  — 

Unless  it's  up  above, 
Whar  round-ups  an'  the  brandin'  time 

Are  butt'er'd  o'er  with  love. 
[56] 


"  Excuse  me,  John,  I  can  not  help 

A  sheddin'  of  a  tear. 
Th'  cowboy  wuz  my  steadfast  friend. 

I  look  down  at  his  bier  — 
I  see  what  most  folks  now  can't  see, 

Because  they  never  know'd 
Th'  cowboy  of  th'  airly  day, 

An'  all  th'  good  he  sow'd." 


[57] 


WOMEN  OF  THE  WESTERN  RANGE 


MOTHERS  AND  WIVES 

"  WALL,  John,  I've  talked  so  much  about 

Cowpunchers  an'  thair  mounts, 
About  th'  cattul  herds  an'  trails, 

With  other  things  that  counts 
So  much,  when  speakin'  of  th'  life 

Our  peepul  liv'd  out  here, 
That  you  may  think  I've  overlook'd, 

The  one  thing  prized  most  dear. 

"  I've  saved  th'  best  things  fur  th'  last, 

Th'  same  as  cake  an'  pie. 
Th'  wimmern  folks  have  play'd  thair  part 

Out  whar  th'  Great  Plains  lie. 
Tha've  play'd  it,  too,  in  sich  a  way 

To  make  men  proud  of  'em, 
Fur  tha  hev  seen  th'  wild  stampede 

No  livin'  man  could  stem. 

"  Hence,  I  must  say  a  closin'  word, 

An'  proper  credit  give 
To  them  brave  souls  upon  th'  Range  — 

So  few  of  'em  still  live  — 
Who  sacrificed  an'  toil'd  an'  slav'd 

'Long  in  th'  airly  day ; 
Who  waited  fur  us  to  cum  home 

Until  th'  moon  wuz  gray. 


[61] 


"  Who  never  murmur'd,  nur  complain'd 

At  what  thar  wuz  to  do, 
But  buckuld  down  upon  th'  job 

Th'  whole  long  season  through. 
Th'  wimmern  of  th'  Frontier  Days, 

God  bless  'em  every  one  — 
While  men  ud  work  th'  whole  day  through, 

Thair  work  wuz  never  dun. 

"  Th'  sacrifices  which  tha  made 

Long  in  th'  airly  days  — 
No  human  tongue  cud  ever  tell ; 

An'  tha  wud  sure  amaze 
Your  wimmern  of  th'  present  time 

To  larn  what  tha  went  through, 
Fur  tha  have  surely  dun  th'  things 

Which  made  these  plains  fur  you, 

"  To  bloom  an'  blossom  as  th'  rose ; 

Fur  whar  our  cities  stand, 
Tha  blaz'd  th'  way,  with  sobs  an'  tears, 

To  make  a  '  Promised  Land.' 
Tha  went  with  us  out  on  th'  plains, 

Away  from  kith  an'  kin, 
To  face  th'  hardships  waitin'  thar, 

A-helpin'  us  t'  win. 

"  Tha  left  th'  luxuries  of  home, 

To  make  thair  home  with  us. 
Tha  said  good-bye  to  all  thair  friends 
Without  th'  slightest  fuss. 

[62] 


rit" 
=; 


I 


Tha  chose  th'  hardships  waitin'  thar, 

Without  a  sign  o'  fear 
O'  dangers  lurkin'  all  around, 

Without  a  nabor  near. 

"  Tha  made  thair  home  in  sum  ole  shack 

Not  fittin'  fur  a  dog 
To  live  in,  when  we  fust  begun, 

With,  sumtimes,  an  ole  log 
To  make  a  bench  to  set  upon; 

Thair  furniture  wuz  rough, 
With  mighty  little  of  it,  too ; 

Thair  livin'  sure  wuz  tough. 

"  But  what  tha  lack'd  in  fine  display, 

Tha  sure  made  up  in  grace  — 
Fur  everything  seem'd  like  a  home 

In  that  furlorn  ole  place. 
It  takes  a  gentle  female  touch 

To  make  a  home  fur  man 
In  city  fair,  upon  th'  plains, 

Er  whar  th'  Conchos  span. 

"  It's  not  so  much  th'  wealth  you've  got 

That  makes  fur  you  a  home; 
But  it's  th'  joy  an'  sunshine  thar, 

No  matter  whar  you  roam. 
That  humble  shack  upon  th'  plains, 

So  far  from  human  ken, 
Becums  a  mansion  fill'd  with  bliss, 

Ef  love  is  thar  fur  men. 

[63] 


"  Whar  faith  is  found  in  large  supply  — 

Wimmern's  sweetest  leaven  — 
Sweeter  words  can  ne'er  be  found  than 

Mother  —  Home  —  an'   Heaven. 
So,  ef  we  had  no  luxuries 

Within  our  lowly  shack, 
It  wuz  made  up  in  other  things, 

Whar  love  wuz  never  slack. 

"  Sumtimes,  when  I  reflect  upon 

What  wimmern  folks  went  through 
Out  here  upon  th'  Western  Range, 

An'  how  tha  had  to  screw 
Thair  courage  to  th'  stickin'  pint, 

An'  then  hold  on  by  grace, 
It  makes  me  feel  so  proud  of  'em 

I  want  to  hide  my  face. 

"  An'  ef  thar's  any  shinin'  stars 

In  heaven  fur  a  crown, 
I  want  to  see  'em  wear  'em  all. 

Please  hear  me  —  Reuben  Brown. 
E'en  then  thar  won't  be  haf  enuf, 

Fur  tha  desarve  lots  more 
To  pay  'em  fur  th'  life  tha  led, 

True  hearted  to  th'  core. 

"  Our  wimmern  were  th'  bravest  souls 

That  ever  liv'd  er  died. 
Tha  cheer'd  us  in  our  gloomy  days ; 
All  hardships  tha  defied. 
[64] 


Fur  comfort,  luxury,  an'  ease, 

Tha  didn't  care  a  cent, 
But  put  thair  shoulders  to  th'  wheel 

An'  great  assistance  lent. 

"  Then  what  tha  suffer'd  in  them  days 

From  longin'  thoughts  of  home! 
So  fur  away  from  lovin'  friends, 

Away  from  church  an'  dome 
Whose  bell  told  when  the  Sabbath  cum ; 

Tha  never  seem'd  to  mind, 
But  liv'd  thar  in  thair  lonely  shack, 

So  brave,  an'  true,  an'  kind. 

"  Tha  giv  us  courage  to  fight  on 

Our  battles  with  a  vim. 
Th'  way  wuz  lonesum,  an'  th'  road 

Sumtimes  wuz  awful  dim. 
But  when  we'd  look  into  thair  eyes, 

Thar  courage  we  wud  find, 
Which  giv  us  strength  to  battle  on 

Mid  hardships  undefin'd. 

"  You  talk  'bout  wimmern  bein'  weak, 

An'  needin'  help  t'  stand; 
You  talk  about  'em  lackin'  nerve, 

When  tha  must  take  a  hand 
In  sumthin'  needin'  to  be  dun ; 

Now  that's  all  bosh,  by  jing! 
I've  seen  th'  time  a  man  'ud  quail, 
While  tha  ud  laff  an'  sing. 
[65] 


"  Th'  weaker  vessel  she  may  be 

In  sum  things,  I'll  admit, 
But  when  you  put  her  to  th'  test  — 

I've  seen  her  take  th'  bit 
Rite  in  her  teeth,  an'  gallup  off 

Whar  sum  men  wudn't  ride; 
Th'  bravest  soldier  in  th'  bunch  — 

That  wuz  th'  cowman's  bride. 

"  Then,  when  th'  '  woman's  hour  '  cum, 

Away  out  on  th'  plains, 
Without  a  doctor  livin'  near 

To  ease  her  of  her  pains, 
I've  seen  her  grit  her  pearly  teeth 

While  layin'  thar  alone, 
Until  a  babe  lay  in  her  arms, 

Her  suff'r'n'  to  atone. 

"  This  is  th'  kind  o'  wimmern,  John, 

Who  settled  in  th'  West. 
This  is  th'  kind  o'  mothers,  too, 

Who  have  our  children  blest. 
Tha  left  thair  impress  on  thair  sons, 

Upon  thair  daughters,  too ; 
An'  that  is  why  we're  proud  of  'em  — 

That's  why  I'm  proud  o'  you. 

"  Your  mother  wuz  as  sweet  a  gell 

As  ever  liv'd  er  died. 
I  know'd  her  when  a  little  tot. 
Law!     How  her  mammy  cried 
[66] 


a 


:  a. 
I  '« 

1  s- 


When  she  wuz  married  to  your  paw, 
An'  moved  out  on  th'  range  — 

So  fur  away  from  home  an'  friends, 
It  surely  did  seem  strange, 

"  Fur  she's  been  rais'd  so  tenderly, 

Mid  luxury  an'  ease. 
Her  mother  didn't  think  she'd  suit 

A  cowboy,  ef  you  please. 
But  thar,  she  wuz  mistaken,  John, 

Fur  she  went  rite  to  work 
An'  did  th'  things  upon  th'  ranch 

Which  men  ud  sumtimes  shirk. 

"  That  little  jewelled  hummin'  bird 

Becum  an  eagle  bold  — 
With  wings  spread  out  upon  th'  plains 

As  bright  as  burnished  gold. 
Protected  all  her  broodlings  thar ; 

An'  taught  'em,  in  th'  fear 
Of  Him  who  guarded  thair  young  lives 

An'  held  thair  honor  dear." 


[67] 


DAUGHTERS  AND  SWEETHEARTS 

WALL,  when  our  kids  wuz  big  enuf 

To  send  away  to  school, 
We  sent  'em  to  sum  college  town 

Whar  tha  cud  learn  by  rule 
Th'  things  we  cudn't  teach  'em  here, 

Fur  I  am  proud  to  say 
We  wanted  'em  to  know  th'  things 

Which  wud  help  us  sum  day. 

Remember,  when  our  oldest  gell 

Got  big  ennuf  t'  go 
Away  t'  college,  fur  t'  lurn 

What  other  gells  shuld  kno. 
We  sent  her  up  t'  ole  Bryn  Mawr, 

In  Pennsylvania  State 
Whar  she  culd  git  th'  best  thar  wuz, 

As  good,  at  any  rate. 

So,  after  she'd  been  thar  awhile, 

An'  studied  all  th'  brands, 
She  got  acquainted  with  th'  herds 

That  cum  frum  other  lands. 
I  guess  she  class'd  up  purty  well 

Frum  what  her  teachers  wrote  — 
I  sure  wuld  like  t'  seen  'em,  when 

Tha  tried  t'  git  her  goat. 


[68] 


You  see,  she'd  liv'd  upon  the  range, 

An'  rode  out  in  th'  sun, 
A  takin'  exercise  all  day  — 

Just  like  th'  cowboys  dun  — 
Until  she  got  so  strong  and  stout, 

'Twud  make  you  laff  t'  see 
Th'  way  she'd  pick  her  muther  up, 

An'  lay  her  'crost  her  knee. 

"  She'd  larnt  t'  ride  so  doggone  well 

While  lopin'  o'er  th'  plains 
That  I  wuz  skurt  purt  nigh  t'  death 

Th'  way  she  helt  th'  reins. 
She'd  saddle  any  bronch  we  had, 

Then  fork  upon  his  back, 
An'  rope  a  steer  as  quick  as  wink, 

Without  a  bit  o'  slack. 

"  I  tell  you,  we  wuz  proud  o'  her, 

Fur  thar  wur  lots  o'  times 
She'd  do  a  cowboy's  work  all  day, 

An'  save  me  lots  o'  dimes. 
I  didn't  think  it  hardly  rite 

Fur  her  to  work  like  that ; 
But  she  'ud  laff,  then  off  she'd  go, 

A-wearin'  my  ole  hat. 

"  Then,  too,  her  nerves  seem'd  made  o'  steel, 

Fur  she  cud  shoot  a  gun, 
An'  bring  a  hongry  coyote  down 
While  he  wuz  on  th'  run. 

[69] 


She  seem'd  to  kinda  like  sich  sport  — 
An'  she  grew  strong  and  trim. 

She  had  a  perfect  Venus  form 
In  body,  arm,  an'  limb. 

"  O'  course  her  cheeks  and  hans  wuz  tann'd 

Unto  an  olive  hue, 
But  when  she'd  look  up  in  your  face, 

With  eyes  of  bluest  blue, 
You  didn't  seem  to  mind  th'  tan, 

Fur  she  had  in  that  look 
A  winsum  smile  you  never  seen 

In  any  story  book. 

"  So  when  she  went  away  t'  school, 

We  mis'd  her  like  th'  deuce  — 
An't  seem'd  like  every  hoss  we  had 

Wuz  tryin'  to  break  loose. 
Tha  seem'd  to  miss  her  much  as  us ; 

So  did  th'  cowboys,  too. 
An'  fur  a  time  th'  whole  shebang 

Wuz  dad  burn'd  awful  blue. 

"  She'd  write  to  us  three  times  a  week, 

An'  when  her  letters  cum, 
Cowpunchers  all  ud  gather  round 

Until  you'd  hear  a  hum 
Jist  like  a  hive  o'  swarmin'  bees, 

At  all  th'  things  tha'd  say  — 
When  she  wud  write  about  th'  stunts 

Th'  other  gells  ud  play. 

[70] 


li- 


"  She'd  tell  about  her  studies,  and 

Th'  way  tha  taught  up  thar. 
She'd  tell  about  athletics,  and 

Th'  pole  vault  and  th'  bar. 
She'd  tell  about  th'  tennis  games, 

Th'  basket  ball,  an'  golf 
Until  I  thought  I'd  have  to  send 

Fur  good  old  Doctor  Rolf. 

"  One  day  another  letter  cum, 

A-tellin'  us  th'  news 
About  her  school,  and  books  an'  things, 

Along  with  her  own  views  — 
In  which  she  said,  'mong  other  things: 

6  I'm  workin'  with  a  zest, 
But  everything  considered,  maw, 

I  like  my  gym  th'  best.' 

"  Wall,  then  her  grandma  bristled  up, 

As  mad  as  a  wet  hen. 
'  Now  who  is  Jim,  I'd  like  to  know? 

An'  what,  an'  whar,  an'  when, 
Has  she  got  time  to  fool  with  boys  ? 

An'  what's  he  doin*  thar? 
You  tell  her  ef  he  don't  make  tracks, 

I'll  pull  his  mangy  har. 

"  '  Rube,  write  an*  tell  that  gell,  fur  me, 

To  swat  that  puppy  love; 
To  let  her  mind  be  centered  on 
Th'  nobler  things  above ; 
[71] 


To  tell  that  Jim  to  hunt  new  range  — 
We  ain't  got  none  to  spare  — 

Er  I'll  cum  up  to  ole  Bryn  Mawr 
An'  give  his  hoss  a  scare. 

"  '  You  tell  her  that  her  grandma  says 

To  let  young  men  alone ; 
To  git  her  less'ns  like  she  ought, 

An'  not  to  be  a  drone ; 
That  she  must  not  take  up  her  time 

A-foolin'  round  with  Jim. 
She'd  heap  sight  better  try  an'  larn 

Sum  ole  long  meter  hymn. 

"  <  You  tell  her  that  she'd  better  watch 

Th'  range  she's  ridin'  through; 
Fur  ef  she  sees  a  "Mavrick  "  thar, 

It  don't  belong  to  you. 
An'  ef  a  "  sleeper  "  she  shud  find, 

She  mustn't  brand  it  "  Jim  " ; 
This  makin'  love  is  all  a  farce  — 

Tell  her  to  dodge  that  limb.' 

"  Her  ole  grandma  wuz  sure  work'd  up 

Until  our  gell  writ  back 
An'  said,  th'  joke  wuz  all  on  us; 

She  cudn't  tell  a  whack, 
Fur  *  gym  '  stood  fur  gym-nasi-um, 

Whar  ac-ro-bat-ic  stunts 
Wuz  taught  to  all,  an'  healthy  folks 
Wuz  made  of  all  th'  runts. 
[72] 


"  Ag'in  she  writ,  another  time, 

That  she  had  led  her  class, 
Had  been  elected  president  — 

Our  little  '  dogie  '  lass  I 
Tha'd  also  made  her  cap-i-tan 

Of  sum  athletic  team; 
It  made  me  feel  so  blam'd  stuck  up 

I  almost  had  to  scream. 

"  Th'  time  fur  graduation  cum. 

She'd  led  her  class  right  through 
Four  years  of  study  an'  hard  work, 

Jist  like  we  wisht  her  to. 
So  when  she  writ  she  wanted  us 

To  see  her  graduate, 
We  got  so  anxious  fur  th'  time 

We  cudn't  hardly  wait. 

"  Her  maw  an'  grandma  an'  her  paw 

Got  on  th'  kivered  cars 
With  winders  in  'em  on  th'  sides  — 

We  didn't  mind  th'  j  ars  — 
An'  went  to  see  th'  show  pull'd  off 

In  that  fur  Eastern  town, 
Fur  we  wuz  proud  as  we  cud  be 

Of  our  sweet  *  Bessie '  Brown. 

"  Tha  had  a  great  procession,  John, 

Of  all  th'  graduates; 
Tha  march'd  down  in  a  double  file 
With  gells  from  all  th'  states, 

[79] 


All  dress'd  in  white  an'  neat  as  pins  — 
I  tell  you  tha  look'd  fine  — 

While  we  wuz  strainin'  of  our  eyes 
To  see  that  gell  of  mine. 

"  At  last  I  seen  her  with  th'  herd, 

An'  told  her  maw  to  look 
An*  see  how  proud  she  walked  along, 

While  my  old  body  shook 
With  pride  an'  pleasure  at  the  sight ; 

She  wuz  a  thoroughbred, 
An'  best  of  all,  which  tickled  me, 

Wuz  that  her  class  she  led. 

"  I  said:     *  Look,  Maw,  at  little  Bess, 

Th'  finest  yearlin'  thar.' 
She  cudn't  see  th'  gell  at  all, 

An'  I  said:     «  Wall,  by  gar. 
Look  at  that  gell  with  shinin'  eyes 

A-walkin'  with  a  hep, 
Th'  only  one  in  that  great  herd  .  . 

Who  is  a-keepin'  step.' 

"  'Twuz  then  a  woman  turn'd  around  — 

She'd  heerd  th'  things  I  said  — 
An'  handed  Maw  her  ole  spy  glass: 

X^«/       O 

'  Look  at  that  gell,  ahead.' 
Maw  put  th'  glass  up  to  her  eyes  — 

I  give  a  nudgin'  jolt, 
An'  laffin',  to  th'  woman,  said: 

'  Old  Blaze  don't  know  her  colt.' 
[74] 


We  never  wuz  ashamed  of  'em 

In  toivn,   er  city  school." — Page  75 


"  Wall,  that's  th'  kind  of  wimmern,  John, 

We  rais'd  upon  th'  plains  — 
Mothers,  wives,  and  daughters  all, 

With  red  blood  in  thair  veins. 
We  never  wuz  ashamed  of  'em 

In  town,  er  city  school. 
Tha'd  class  a  '  top  '  all  o'er  th'  earth, 

By  any  kind  o'  rule. 

"  Th'  trainin'  which  tha  got  out  here 

Wuz  hard,  I  will  admit, 
But  when  th'  drillin'  time  wuz  past, 

Tha  all  wuz  proud  of  it. 
Fur  show  me  whar,  in  all  th'  land, 

More  perfect  wimmern  grow 
Than  what  you  see  upon  th'  range 

With  faces  all  aglow. 

"  Th'  strength  of  youth  is  in  thair  limbs ; 

Th'  smile  of  peace  an'  joy 
Shines  from  thair  eyes,  so  full  o'  hope, 

Without  th'  least  alloy ; 
Sweet  innersence  shines  in  thair  face; 

A  trustin'  heart  serene. — 
Th'  mothers,  wives,  an'  sweethearts,  John 

Ring  down  th'  closin'  scene." 


[75] 


THE  END  OF  THE  TRAIL 


THE  END  OF  THE  TRAIL 

"  WALL,  John,  I  must  be  mos'yV  on. 

I've  been  hope  up  a  heap 
A  spinnin'  of  my  little  yarns, 

Until  you're  most  asleep. 
But  sumhow,  when  I  git  strung  out, 

A  driftin'  t'wards  th'  line, 
I  jist  can't  keep  frum  thinkin'  back 

On  this  ole  life  o'  mine. 

"  Fur  everything  I  us'd  to  see 

'Long  in  the  airly  day, 
Th'  life  which  then  we  us'd  to  live 

Has  sung  its  solemn  lay. 
Th'  range  has  chang'd,  th'  scenes  have  chang'd, 

Th'  folks  have  chang'd  as  well  — 
An'  in  a  little  while  you'll  hear 

'Em  ring  my  fun'ral  knell. 

"  Gone  is  th'  ole  time  buffalo ; 

Gone  is  the  open  range; 
Gone  is  th'  cowboy  an'  his  mount. 

Gone  —  everything  —  how  strange ! 
Gone  is  th'  old  bald  eagle,  too, 

Wild  turkey  an'  th'  deer ; 
Th'  stingin*  lizard's  'bout  to  go, 

Th'  horn'd  toad,  too,  I  fear. 


[79] 


"  Gone  is  th'  antelope  an*  bear, 

Th'  Injun  with  his  bow; 
Th'  centipede  an'  praire  dogs, 

Out  here  no  longer  grow. 
Th'  rattlesnake  an'  cotton  tail 

Now  occupy  thair  holes ! 
Th'  coyote  gives  a  lonesum  howl 

As  progress  onward  rolls. 

"  Gone  is  th*  ole  time  pioneer, 

Who  early  blazed  th'  way, 
An'  opened  up  th'  trail  fur  you 

Who  live  this  better  day. 
Gone  air  th'  faces  I  onct  knew 

Who  settled  in  th'  West  — 
An'  soon  I  will  be  goin',  John, 

To  my  last,  long  sweet  rest. 

"  I'm  pretty  near  the  great  trail's  end, 

Th'  trail  th'  sun  goes  down, 
I'm  passin'  o'er  th'  last  Deevide 

But  thar  ain't  nary  frown ; 
Th'  valley  land  is  jist  ahead, 

Whar  sparklin'  waters  flow, 
An'  whar  th'  grass  is  nice  an'  green, 

An'  shall  forever  grow. 

"  The  taller  weeds  an'  browsin'  brush 

Air  growin'  on  th'  hills. 
Th'  shade  is  fine,  th'  grass  is  sweet, 

Down  near  th'  flowin*  rills. 
[80] 


An'  everything  is  jist  to  suit 

A  cattul  man  like  me 
Upon  th'  new  an'  wondrous  range 

Which  I  can  plainly  see. 

"  An'  now  I  hear  th'  mockin'  birds 

A  singin'  with  a  trill, 
While  other  birds  make  music  in 

Th'  trees  out  on  th'  hill. 
An'  everything  is  lovely,  John. 

It  seems  that  I  most  sail! 
Ah  yes !     Now  I  know  what  it  is  — 

Th'  endin'  of  th'  Trail. 

"  Out  thar's  th'  Grand  Ole  Cap-i-tan, 

A  ridin'  in  '  th'  swing,* 
With  <  pointers  '  on  th'  left  an'  right, 

An'  '  flankers  '  who  will  bring 
Th'  '  dogie  drags  '  all  into  camp  — 

Oh !  what  a  wondrous  sight ! 
Behold !     The  Last  Grand  Round-Up,  in 

Th'  Valley  of  Delight." 


[81] 


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